The Daughter Of A Muggle
by FruMalfoy
Summary: HBP Spoiler!Mainly about Hermione. Of her feelings of leaving her parents every year... this year is Different tho. On her way to Privet Drive she meets Malfoy. He clearly needs her help, hardely knowing that himself. And Snape... what about Snape?
1. Letting her go

**DO NOT OWN A THING!**

**Letting her go**

(The hardest part of leaving is saying goodbye)

- Take care now, love. Her mother hugged her again. (No)

- I'll be back soon, she answered as she hugged her father as well. (Don't let her go)

The door flung opened and she was gone. Again, Mrs Granger had let her daughter out of her motherly grip. She watched the young girl walk down the street from the window, hardly knowing when she'll be able to see her again. They never knew.

(You hear the voice of your destiny call)

This had been the last few years and this year like all others Mrs Granger had promised herself, not to let Hermione go. And there she was again, holding her husbands hand as her little girl faded away in the newborn sunlight.

(Have you ever heard the world; NO)

Why, she did not know. Hermione never told them. She had told them, she was needed for something. "They" needed her. Why would they need a 17 years old girl, even younger?

It was true, Hermione was somehow extraordinary. She was a witch like "them". But even so.

(you know, you most go and find your way)

As the mother she was, she was worried of cause. She had seen the damage those people had done to her daughter.

Same thing every summer. New wounds and bruises, her hair even (if possible) more frizzy.

And those eyes of hers. There had been something about them since the first year she had come back from Hogwarts. But she couldn't with all her might see what made the difference.

It was true, her little girls eyes had seen things her own never had but could magic had caused such change?

Mrs Granger had noticed this more and more as the years went by. Hermione's eyes told her stories she herself didn't even want to think about.

It wasn't until this year she clearly saw what the real difference was, Pain, obviously her eyes were full of pain. What had her daughter seen? What had made the change?

She had asked Hermione about it of cause. About those new wounds. But Hermione hadn't given her a full answer, that wasn't like her little Hermione. She had said something about troubled times in the wizarding world and that she was needed to help out.

Hermione had mentioned a man named Lord Voldemort. Mrs Granger had never heard that name before that but she had shivered as she heard it. Not that the name frightened her, no, but she had seen the flicker in Hermione's eyes as she was somehow almost terrified of pronouncing it properly.

Who was this man?

What had he done to her daughter?

In that same talk, Hermione had spoken of a boy. Her friend, the friend who needed her.

Harry Potter his name was.

It was something about that boy, she knew, not knowing his story. His name sounded familiar somehow, like she had heard it before. Like as in a dream or as someone had spoken of him at a nearby table at the café. Yes, she had definitely heard it before.

Why was her girl so important for him?

And who was this Harry Potter?

(You never told her and hopefully never will)

When Hermione disappeared from view, Mrs Granger let go of Mr Granger's hand and continued her dishes.

(Only a memory away)


	2. Surprises in the lilac alley

**Surprises in the lilac alley**

It was a rather chilly morning in one of the very last days of July.

The frizzy haired girl was walking down an idyllic street not to far from Guildford, heading for the nearby bus stop, trailing a large trunk. The burden of it didn't seem to bother her though. Her father had attached four wheels underneath it and the trunk rolled smoothly behind her.

But the girl went past the bus stop. There was no hurry; besides, she needed a couple of minutes or more to think. She could as well go to the next stop, it wasn't that far.

Hermione hated leaving her parents like that. They hardly knew her anymore, her own fault of course; the three of them hardly ever meet these days.

Harry needed her of cause. Now more then ever after last terms event. With Dumbledore dead, they all needed one another.

Hermione hadn't talked to her parents about all of this. In the future, she knew, she might have to tell her parents the whole story. The tale of The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Chosen-One. But this year had not been the right time for them to know how their daughter had been weaved in to his destiny.

Crossing the large market-square, Hermione disappeared among the tiny alleys surrounding it.

This wasn't the fastest way to the next bus stop, but she needed the time thinking.

The young man (or boy, it was hard to tell in the shadows) was tired, hidden by the bushes, outstretched in a strange angle. He wasn't comfortable but didn't really bother either. He needed some rest that was all.

The young mans face, still a bit childish, may once have been pretty but not these days. More pale then ever, he was, the eyes had lost there colour and beneath them there were dark shadows, not caused by the leaves concealing him. He looked as he had lost a lot of weight in a short notice of time and the robes of his lay loosely around his body.

The young man was aware of this but didn't give any priority to it, after al, he wasn't the boy he once had been.

Proud of today's hiding place, he tried to get some sleep.

Hermione walked down the alley, a very pretty alley, she had to admit. Hadn't been in this particular alley more then maybe once or twice in her lifetime.

Old houses and large lilac bushes lined the narrowly alley. Even though the lilac flowers since long had been dead, this was the kind of place she would like to live in when she'd grown old.

Her trunk bumped slightly. Maybe a stone… or a mislead root.

"- Ouch…"

Hermione stopped at once. Hogwarts had through the years widened her senses and no stone nor any roots she'd come across (how ever mislead they might be) had ever whined.

What was it then?

She could hardly belief her eyes as she glanced back on the slender lane. During her schooling she had learned to rely on her eyes, nothing was impossible, but… was that really an arm sticking out of one of the bushes?

It couldn't be… but it undoubtedly was.

Looking in to one of he lilac bushes she could just almost distinguish a young man (or a boy, it was hard to tell).

_Authors note: I do know about the mandrakes in CoS but I doubt they say "ouch"!_


End file.
